Broken Hearts and Bruised Bones
by thesaviorjones
Summary: Captain Swan. Emma is taken prisoner and tortured during their trip to Neverland by Pan in punishment for the team breaking rules. When they attempt to rescue her, Emma is not fond with ho the reunion turns out.
The pain was bearable.

More than expected, at least. She'd been the cave for at least a day so far. It was dark and black where she was. It was a simple hallowed rock, she would say, with a door made of large sticks on the wall behind her. Her chair was placed in the center of the stuffy prison. She was tied to it with scratchy rope on her wrists and ankles and torso with a gag that didn't taste the sweetest.

She had been in there since Pan had attacked their camp hours before. She was taken because they didn't follow the rules of the map-there was always a consequence.

Pan had said for every rule broken, someone shall be taken. She wasn't captured for any specific reason; she was just the easiest lure in. Emma was pretty sure they all knew exactly what happened. After here faint squeal as he covered her mouth, she heard a faint voice calling out " _Swan"_. Killian knew, at least, and he was the most experienced with the island. She tried to keep up hope that they would find her and get back on track soon, but the whole keeping hope game her parents played was quite difficult on the island.

There wasn't much to do in the chair, either. There was no food, no water. She's been dazing into uncomfortable sleeps every now and then; the habit of the past couple of days' of always was being half asleep getting the best of her. Her neck was strained and rubbed from the gag. She had several stinging sensations up and down her back where the lost boys had hit her when she refused to do anything, and was almost certain the dry liquid that had rolled down her face was blood rather than a tear.

Emma surprising cursed herself the first time her belly made a horrible growl, from the hours before when she refused to eat. It would take them at least another 24 hours to find her, if they even be willing.

It was another two hours before she heard a faint rustle of bushes and snapped awake. Some light shone at her feet as the door was opened. Her hope bouncing a little, waiting for the squeal of her name and four-maybe six-arms would wrap around her. But she was greeted by the arrogant, stupid little accent that belonged to Pan himself.

"Your family has been misbehaving, Emma." She winced as the sound of wood to fabric (leather?) echoed through the cave around them. "They found our camp today. They were looking for your boy." A spark of hope started in her stomach. "But he wasn't there, of course. No, the Boys and I aren't that dumb to have him with us, even after the slight feeling of your little team in a 600 yard radius from us. We sent him to pick berries for dinner ten minutes before they even caught sight of camp." She let out a noticeable sigh in defeat, too noticeable for Pan to ignore. "Oh, so you thought they actually saved Henry? Emma, I thought you knew better. I don't know what you're games are as Heroes, but me? Well, my games are different, you see. My game is only beginning. But don't worry, Emma. Your family and that pirate of yours, whatever you'd be fond of calling him, are safe. We told them we would let them off a little this time, let all of the team members to stay put in their positions and not join you. I did warn them, though, that I let them off a little and a certain prisoner will pay the rest. Do you know who that prisoner may be, Emma?"

The spark in her stomach was drowned by watered fear, over taking her insides as the Boy came into her field of view. One was carrying a walking stick that was shaved from its tree bark, as bare as she suddenly felt to them. Emma was still fully clothed, it was just her physical position making her uncomfortable, but she knew what they were going to do with that stick, that brought a glisten in the cave that she knew screamed magic, and she knew she was that certain prisoner.

And by all of the sudden, she has never wanted her parents more, not even from the days of foster homes, and felt severe guilt and pity for how she treated them on the Jolly Roger. At the place she was in, seeing them again would be a miracle. Seeing anyone, really. She wouldn't care if she saw even Regina; she just wanted to know by the end of all of that Henry would be safe.

Her expression was seemingly too obvious once again, earning a smirk off of the little brat's countenance. All shed want to do if she had the energy would be to slap that fucking smile off his face.

The Boy gave the stick a swing; she tensed to muster the pain. But no pain came. What did was the sound of dirt being dug, or broken perhaps. She opened her one eye warily to visit the stick in front of her, perfectly centered as if rehearsed. For the good of the situation she tried to imagine Pan's Lost Boys practicing on how to plant the stick in the ground but her thoughts just went to Henry and David playing with swords.

"Now, you don't think I'm that harsh, do you? It wouldn't be polite of me to let someone fulfill a debt on an empty stomach." He took an apple out of his pocket, the colored red sending almost a tint to the cool rocks around them. He placed the fruit onto her lap before sending out a quick signal. A second later the cave was accompanied by two more Lost Boys. One held her shoulders down, rather harshly, against the chair while the second untied her hands. Emma enjoyed the feeling as it lasted. He threw her arms to her front where the Boy holding her shoulders retied them. The third took out another rope, and tied her waist to the chair.

They all simultaneously got up and left the room with Pan behind them, leaving Emma alone in the cave. She knew how they were playing. The stick was planted right in front, but too far to reach by only a little. They tied her this way so she can eat, probably while they eyed her down.

She grazed the apple's red skin with her dirty was clear the fruit was crafted by magic, and not man labor, not like he would put any into the task otherwise. It was too red; too perfect.

Somehow, she was able to control herself as it came to her mouth, but that may have just been her uncertainty of Pan's affections. Emma bit into it, the rich taste of a magic apple pleasuring her taste buds. After several seconds swallowing without feeling queasy she took another. And another, and another, and another, while involuntarily keeping her eyes on the stick in front of her, taunting her, and growing more and more out of reach as the seconds passed.

If only she could get it. If only she could get the stick and rip off these ropes and defend herself to the lost boys with her adrenaline produced magic. But the shininess coating a layer of it disagreed. Pan had probably covered the wood with a spell that would not let anyone with magic possess it; that's why he had assistance.

So she ate the apple with disappointment, almost chuckling as she thought eating it may make it seem that she was the villain when it came to clique measures. Her stomach growled, the emptiness disordering it. She took every possible bite of the apple until it was bare to the core. Emma held it awkwardly, unsure what to do with it anymore. She wound up tossing it to the side somewhere. She suddenly felt in need of more food, as well as more sleep. She rested her eyes into a dreamless serene for what seemed like hours, but was actually only a couple of seconds. As soon as the Boys noted she had finished eating, they barged back into the room. The ropes tied around her wrists seemed unknowingly tighter, pulled, like one of them had tighten it just in sake of no punishment from pan in return of mistakenly letting Emma free.

These boys were different than the ones before. One was tall and lean, probably about sixteen, and the others were more bulky and looked a tad more mature. She knew what they were going to do, and braced herself for it. She had noticed the change in ages, and realized pan did have some sort of mercy; just not for her. the other boys from before were still a bit chubby compared to their allies, and their age difference from the ones present were a good two or three years younger. It was clear they hadn't been on the island for nearly enough time as the others. He did not want them to see the abuse. Viewing what was pretense was too risky, and he did not want the boys to see it and change their minds about being allies with him. It was pretty sick, actually, to hide who you really were for the sake of yourself.

Emma realized her burning sensation on her wrists were from herself pulling on the twine. Each step they took, steading and as taunting as the stick, her pulling made it tighter and more uncomfortable.

"Scared, does it seem, Emma?" despite her panic, Emma was able to muster rolling her eyes at the sound of Pan's teasing remarks. After one more pull, she gave into accepting the fact she wasn't getting out, even with her magic, and will have to face the pain. "You're not the first. Most of my...friends are always a little shaken before their first session." First? How many was he planning to have? Was she going to be beat to death, or will he let her walk—or limp, or crawl—out alive? It was hard to imagine. Extremely.

The process went by in a blur. She was too weak to fight them, or she just knew she couldn't. She let them lurch her up and retie her hands, impossibly tighter than the previous group, and made her stand in the middle of the dwelling.

"You ready?" he had to be kidding. Pan would not be able to care less about her being, and certainly would not ask her if she was ready to be beaten with a blasted stick.

But then again, he would.

Because he was an abject. His whole existence was. He believed she would fall for his affections, some sympathy he showed her. But she was not that stupid.

"Just get it over with." She somehow managed to croak out. He chuckled before commanding the Lost Boys to do te action she most painfully dreaded.

Two of the Boys walked past her to the foyer while pan watched with a sly grin next to her apple core. The other Boy circled her to come back around. He was taller than her by a good five inches. Maybe even taller than Hook.

When he came back around a second time he had the stick in his hands. His face remained still and emotionless, other than a dangerous edge to it. It was the same with all of them. Every boy had the same look as dauntless, but as soon you caught their eyes another trait peaked from the shadows; vulnerable. Every last one.

Suddenly, a bruising pain swept across her shoulder blades and she knew she's been hit. The blow came with a sensation that was not from the bark and clearly induced by magic. It felt like her skin was burned, and from the feeling of exposure the thought was probably valid. It also sent her to jolt forward, certainly involuntarily and also sent her to jolt forward, certainly involuntarily and without really stepping, but more like shoved.

This enchanted stick was anti-magic indeed.

After the first, she couldn't remember much of the others. Emma just knew that she currently was on the ground after eventually being blown into the caves wall with sharp edges. It didn't help her case though, not one bit.

Her back, scorched and flaming from the clear burns of the stick faced the wall. It was obvious that pan instructed the Boy to hit nothing but her back with the stick, because in the position Emma was in he had kicked her instead. First her stomach, that made her curve in and seem like her back's wounds opening more and more, and then her legs and arms and hands. Slowly, the kicks and hits started to get heavier, and so did her eyelids. Though the pain did not subdue, she found herself in an unrested sleep.

kpkpkp

She'd been hazed for the past four days in and out of sleep. In that time, she's been beaten a total of three times. (Atleast when she was awake. The numbness the abuse caused may have cleared out any feeling or memory. There were certainly burns that appeared without any reason) Both sides of her shirt were stained with blood, and her vision kept blurry. The only reason why her back was not coated with blood was from the scorching water they would poor on her twice a day. Emma had gotten two cups of water the whole time she's been hostage, and a total of two more apples. Yesterday she got a handful of berries.

Emma was aware she may not make it out alive. If it wasn't going to be the beatings, it would be her wounds. And if not that, it would be starvation. She's already noted how her wrists have gotten bonier and the inside of her cheek (that she bit on often) thinner. She had yet to see her stomach, really any body part other than the ones visible. Her hands had countless blisters from where they were burned and hit. Even her jeans were ripped, but no blood on them. Her legs just held bruises.

Hope slowly began to demolish. She knew how much of heroes her family was and by now they would've found her by this point, they had probably found henry, though, and that was all that mattered. Deep down Emma knew henry would not leave without both moms, and that's what worried her. Could it be that they were...dead? It was by all means possible. As Hook had said on his ship last week, Neverland was one of the most dangerous realms of them all.

 _Hook_.

She should've thanked him. God, she should've just let her feelings speak for themselves. Emma would've never known how much the kiss meant—she would've always thought it was a distraction. _But now._ Now, when the bloody man was probably dead for helping her family, dead _for her_ , now she realized how much everything that had happened between them _meant_. How much _love_ he had put towards her, and all she gave back was utter dishonor and distraught.

She felt so selfish, it was almost sickening.

And the worst thing was that she probably— _defiantly_ was going to die with a weight of guilt and selfishness cascading down her back every last breath she would take, for letting the man _die_ thinking he had done _nothing_. He had helped her family so many times he did not deserve anything she had given him. He deserved the complete opposite of her, actually, he deserved someone who automatically would thank him and wash him with a waterfall of kisses. Not her—not _Emma_...who she thought of herself as the stubborn, closed-off, selfish human being who thought she'd had have a right to throw anything but gratitude and forthright _respect_ to Hook, to _Killian_ , who deserved every scrambled crumb of it.

And now all she could do in the chair under her numb butt was think of everything everyone has done for her, all probably dead, in which she had not given them any sort of thanks about anything otherwise, and no longer be able to do anything about it anymore. To henry, to her parents, god, even to Regina, who had let her get to know henry even after a good month of fighting over him about it. It was too much—so much for her weak and underfed body to swallow, to hold, and yet the list kept going and going on and on again.

She suddenly felt light headed, perhaps from the sudden thoughts clouding her head and very much soon took over her vision as well. Emma fell into a sleep that was very involuntary, but may also be very needed. Maybe even her last.

 **.**

 **.**

How wrong she was.

Emma woke to a scream—her eyes popping despite the tired heaviness in them. The scream was deep and throated, probably a command by a Lost Boy.

A very demanding and desperate command. For a second she thought they were probably calling for a hunting party, or perhaps a ritual party she had heard them doing around the campfire outside her prison a handful of times throughout her imprisonment. But all of her thought were swept when she heard a particular voice.

Hook.

Her heart fluttered with a sudden anxious feeling. Emma had no idea whether the rest of the team was out there too. But she was able to hope they were, so she did, that she would get to see her parents and her son and hook again...at least before she died. But reality swept in once she heard a clang of swords, signifying the truth of fights before victory. And that's when her nerves burst, that although she may be able to see her family and a pirate, it may not be their living bodies. Four against at least fifteen will not always workout well, magic or not.

The sounds of Screams and cries and swords and bow strings being released was enough to make Emma cringe. She could only imagine the fight out there; only think of the pools of blood soaking shoes and clothes and dirt.

She jumped when everything went quiet. A tight conversation was taking place outside her cell door, too quiet for her to hear. Soon, there was rustling of clothes and some grunts in struggling before it all went still. Too still.

Suddenly, the door opened. Emma thought she'd heard gasp, but that could've even been she. She barely was able to separate anything anymore, her brain constantly being fuzzy from sleep and hunger. The rough, callused feel of two pairs of Lost Boys' hands scratched her skin as they untied the ropes, and then forcibly pulled her up by her arms.

And there she was, taking her first steps in days towards the outside, where she had no idea what awaited. Maybe her parents, maybe some hope, or maybe Pan had decided she had been put into enough misery, a third of which she had mentally inflicted on herself, and was about to finally just end it.

Emma kept her eyes on the ground. She was afraid of what was ahead, not being able to find any sort of audacity to look up and see her murder weapon, or the bodies of her family tied to trees, or Pan standing in the middle of the clearing with his blood-coated arms crossed and a victorious smirk on his face. She didn't want to see it one bit.

But, then, she sees her shoes.

 _Her mother's shoes_.

They weren't coated in blood like she thought they would be. But they were dirty, that's for sure. The slight rocking of her heals let Emma look up, shaken with a tendency of fear. What if her mother was alive, but not her father? In that case, she would have no parents left at all. She had realized that if one of them died, the other would, too. Just not physically.

It took her a couple seconds to look up, taking in every piece of her mother's living body. She let out an internal thank god when she saw her father's hand placed on Snow's waist, letting Emma know he was well. When she finally met her mother's identical eyes, green surrounded by red from upcoming tears, every bit of Emma seemed to have rushed back into the meadow of relief and out of the darkness. A small smile tugged at the end her Snow's lips, pleased to see her daughter, but Emma knew she wasn't alright. Nothing here was alright.

"What have they done to you..." she turned her head agonizingly slowly to face Hook. ( _Killian_. She kept repeating. _His name is_ Killian _. He deserves to be called_ Killian.) And suddenly, all of her relief of seeing her family alive (but no Henry...) blew out of reach. Hook ( _Killian!_ ) was held back by two Lost Boys. She wanted to tell him right there that she was sorry for not ever repaying him, not even saying a simple _thank you_ for risking his _damn life_ so many times for her family when he didn't need to at _all_. Everything he has done for them was his choice, being aware of the great risks and prices and yet still went on with his decisions. And after she had thought he was taken from her, that guilt being left on her shoulders, the selfless pirate was standing _—leaning_ —right in front of her.

She was about to show gratitude.

She was about to apologize.

But his eyes went wide, and hers went black.

 **.**

 **.**

Emma's head pounded has she was brought back into consciousness. The first thought was that see had finally made it to the afterlife, all of her pain and guilt left behind. But all she needed was the movement of Killian's lips of a slight No for it all to come rushing back.

When she opened her eyes fully, Emma realized she had been lying down. Not one, but two blankets surrounded her, and the scent of Killian's ship still somehow rested on one. Her mother was a few feet away hovered over afire, maybe cooking food. (Food! Like, real food!) Her father was on a log, his back facing her, with a pile of twine (her wrists and ankles tingled) to the left of him. Hanging in between two trees was her shirt, clean, but stained red, out to dry. She only then realized she had a different shirt on, this on screaming Regina. (It wasn't surprising she had managed to pack another set of clothing in such a last minute trip) The blouse was black and had a pinch in the top middle of her chest that gathered fabric from the sides that fanned out toward the bottom.

"Mom? Dad?" Snow looked still for a second, as in not knowing for sure if it was her daughter speaking or not, before turning to meet eyes with her. David echoed the actions a swiftly made his way over to Emma's sitting position.

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret's arms soon tucked Emma into her, followed closely by David.

"Where...where's Hook?" she pulled away, doing one more check around the campsite to see if she overlooked him. "Where's Regina?"

"As soon as you were captured, she left the following day. She thought we were too caught up with finding you than finding Henry." David explained. Emma gave him a hard, confused look. She knew Regina wasn't fond of her, she knew Henry was very close to her, but leaving them? Leaving her parents and Killian behind with nothing but Killian's knowledge of the land and their bare hands in defense? She never knew Regina would be so selfish.

"Have you found Henry yet?" the silence followed answered her question for her. Both of them dropped their heads. She looked down at her hands, suddenly forgetting what to say.

"And what about Hook?" Emma asked, keeping her gaze on her tumbling fingers. "Where's Killian?" she heard David sigh, his hand leaving her field of view, probably going into his hair. Emma shot her head up, impatiently, looking for an answer. "Where is he?!" almost immediately, snow took Emma's hand in her own, calming her how she did best.

"Emma, sweetheart..." Emma looked at her mother, stern and bewilder. She had told snow about how they kissed. Snow was probably the only one on this island that knew and realized Emma's feelings for the pirate, and knew it would go into effect when she had to explain what happened.

"You know Pan." David cut in. "He had visited us hours after you had gone missing. He explained to us where you were and why you were there. Once Pan left, we started to pack for the road ahead of us to get you back. Hook told us what they would do, that he sometimes had to face it himself. Regina left as soon as we made our minds about getting you before Henry, even after we assured her he was in better condition then you would be in about three hours."

"She was right. You should've gotten Henry first."

"That's still going to take us days, Emma. You were barely there for a week. I'm sure Pan would be making numerous visits if they were hurting Henry, like he did when you were held there. He came almost every three hours."

"Every time my beatings were over..." Her mother clasped a hand against her mouth, trying to hold back a sob.

"We finally got to you after two tries. Pan said he was sick of you anyway, but would let us off that easily. Hook yelled out a warning of that practically being his war cry. If it wasn't for him, we would probably be dead."

"If it wasn't for him, I would've been dead awhile ago, along with Mar Margaret. Where is he?" David exhaled heavily.

"We were losing. Clearly out numbered, all were kind of accepting our deaths there because we all knew. But...then, Hook...He made us surrender. I almost told him to stop, but he walked up to pan and told him that if he were to give you back, he would give himself as prisoner instead. Pan took the offer." Confusion was still coating her mind as the information sank in.

It hit her.

Harder than a million bullets.

 _He has been taken hostage_.

For _her_.

"No..." She looked between both of them, almost waiting for a plan to get him back. Killian may have even be dead as they spoke, or becoming completely handless. The torture Pan had given Emma had scared her that all she had done was not follow the rule. He had know Killian for literal centuries, and they obviously had a dismal past. Who would know what Killian's punishments would be.

Her parents looked at Emma endearingly. She held a breath back, still waiting for their plan.

They had one, right?

No. Just by the look in their eyes, the familiar ones that she looked into when she knew the people she was trying to arrest again were going to run or not, matched. They were not going to run but stay right there.

"We need to get him." Her mother's eyes furrowed and David leaned back with a huff.

"Emma, you don't have any idea—"

"Do _you_ have any idea? We are sitting here, without even thinking of a plan to save Killian. I had a lot of time to think in that damn cave, and some thoughts did include him. Do you have any _idea_ how much we owe him? How many times he'd helped this family? You, Mary Margaret, know for a fact that you and I wouldn't even be alive this moment if it wasn't for him. He lended his fucking ship to save Henry and we aren't even giving him a chance to be saved himself?" Her voice had cracked two or three times, but Emma tried to convince herself it was the anger and she wasn't going to cry. She ignored the lump in her throat.

The camp seemed to be struck with silence. Because everyone in it knew damn well Emma was 's eyes fell to her lap with her lips pressed in a thin line.

"I was going to say, you don't have any idea how hard it was to convince myself to tell him he ought to let it be, one of us to go in instead. But Hook-Killian denied it and basically walked into the arms of the Lost Boys. We couldn't do anything at that point. Not even after reminding him he was the only way to finding Henry, he said being saved just to find out his mother was staying for all eternity wouldn't be worth it." It was Emma's turn to keep her gaze low at that point, at the brisk of tears. Wanting to be alone, she told the last words before she was going to cry.

"I'm going to rest a bit more." And then Emma turned to face the jungle in front of her, Killian somewhere between each branch and twine, not aware of any rescue for him.

.

.

But the thing was, she didn't sleep. Emma had plenty of sleep in that cahir. Sure, it may have been uncomfortable, but what wasn't on the island. She looked through those leaves of green and green and a very messed up purple, and plotted. For seconds, minutes, hours, maybe through Neverland's never-ending nightfall, she planned for Killian's rescue.

By the end of what she was sure at least four hours, nothing came to mind. Even after every vision that played about in her skull, sparks of pains dancing around a stick, _the stick_ , that may be more than gently grazing that pirate's back and temples and limbs.

The silence had not yet left the ground, but her parents' faint whispers drifted through the jungle's vines. That's when the rustling began.

It was a few meters from Emma's own feet, from the thick plants surrounding that side. Everyone quietly bolted into action; David soundlessly, slowly, slid his sword from the hostler, Snow had one hand holding her bow and the other's fingertips situated on an arrow still awaiting in the quiver. Emma, who had turned her head from the jungle to the clearance, spotted Neal's cutlass laid beside her makeshift bed and stood holding it with a wince.

She felt both of her parents' eyes watch her as she joined them in front of the entrance where their subject was bound to meet them. As the brushing got louder, closer, their arms got more tired, their nerves jumped higher.

Emma actually found amusement in their sync when the leaves parted, Snow's arrow leaving its safe haven as well as her own weapon. But the natural mask left a much too familiar face behind it, one of only Emma's son.

He was unharmed. Looked it, anyway. He was wearing the same clothes Emma had seen him pushed off the docks with, not even a hint of dirt or struggle on it.

"Henry?" All of their stances for attack were relaxed. David and Snow still prepped for ambush, not trusting that he had come alone. Emma, however, completely dropped her machete onto Neverland's ground. She ran to him, despite her aching calves imploring her to calm. She hugged him, which Henry didn't respond to. Shock. Emma brushed off that he was not his usual warm temperature, not cold either. Optimisum. She pulled back and looked at Henry, his hair perfectly sculpted across his forehead. Emma beamed st him, attempting to lift the invisible smile that was secretly playing on his lips for a secret reason in which she had no clue of. "A-Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Henry blankly looked down at his mother. he responded. "I'm fine. Pan wasn't looking so I took advantage of it." She looked over the fact Pan was never that messy. Her son was in front of her for the first time in almost two weeks.

"So you are alone?" He nodded.

"I needed to get out of there. They have Hook. I couldn't bear to hear..." Emma would've heard her father's sword returning to its pocket or the tip of Snow's bow rest into the dirt if her mind didn't cloud. They had Killian.

"It's okay, you're here now." She took a deep breath. "How are you, anyway?" Henry invited himself into their refuge and sat on the log by the fire, which was directly across from where he came from. Her head and eyes followed him walk and followed Henry to sit opposite from him.

"Pan likes to go on field trips, I guess I can call them. We walked a lot. I just remember a cave a little farther from here, so I thought to cut through."

"Are you hungry? Camp is probably far. Do you want something to eat?" He shook his head.

"Nah." He looked into the dancing flames. Henry's eyebrows furrowed. "Do you have a plan?"

"Hm?"

"To save him. Do you have a plan?" Emma, again, conclusively forgot all Henry would know about Hook was that he was a villain. In Henry's eyes, all Hook has done was bad.

"Oh, uh, we are thinking of one. Hopefully it works."

Snow and David joined them at the fire. If everyone wasn't so immensed into the conversation, they would've heard the leaves had started to rustle again.

" _You found him_?" All heads turned to the foyer of the camp, where Regina appeared, wearing an expression of disbelief. A few seconds pretense, Gold stood beside her, both eyes on Henry, only on Henry.

"Mom!" He stood from the log, a hint of a smile formed this time, and started to make his way to Regina. She had her arms spread wide, anxious to hug Henry. He came into her zone, ready to be, when he dissolved in thin air.

Gold's hand was replaced to his side.

Regina, as wide-eyed as the others, turned to him. "What did you do to my son?"

He laughed and responded. "Oh, I didn't do anything to the boy. As far as I am aware, Pan is the most reasonable answer for that." Emma scrunched her forehead back at the log. "If you had not realized already, Henry was never here. That was simply one of Pan's shadows. If any of you were perceptive enough, you would've realized he was the only one around the fire without a shadow following him. Though, I know that may be a low skill for many of you." Emma looked at her shadow in front of her. _Of course._

"How are you guys here, then? And right after Henry-or...Pan's tricky shadowy thing-?" Emma interrogated. Regina crossed her arms and started jaunting to the fire.

"We were making our way to hiding a stash of squid ink somewhere when we heard someone. We followed them, thinking it was a Lost Boy going back to camp. I guess we were wrong, but it looks like we made more progress than you Charming's have." She gestured to the settled camp.

"Actually, we were resting before going to get Hook. He's the only way we are getting Henry off this island. He's practically a mobile map." Emma said, defense oozing.

"Where _is_ the One-Hand-Wonder, anyway? Pickin' rocks to crush for eyeliner?"

She glared at Regina. "Actually, he gave up _his_ freedom for mine. Right now, he's Pan's Prisoner. We are planning to rescue him, and possibly Henry too." Regina hid her sympathy.

"So what is the plan?"

"We hadn't particularly got there until now. You have squid ink?"

"Yes, what do you know about that?"

"It can temporarily freeze even the most powerful of Sorcerers. In my mind, at least, that probably includes Pan and a bunch of teenagers with pointy sticks." Emma saw Snow's raised eyebrows from the corner of her eyes and turned to her. "Again, Killian is a mobile map. Or tour guide."

Regina bit her lip. "I know what you are thinking, Miss Swan. We are not putting our chance of getting Henry in jeopardy for an...useless pirate that is doing nothing but getting in our way."

Fury fumed in Emma, the audacity that consumed Regina as her time as Queen getting to her for the most countless time. So before biting her lip as if it was a restraint to throw herself at Regina. Keeping her exterior calm, she looked up at the Queen with full relaxed composer. "Can I ask you a question, Regina?"

Her laconism was enough of an answer for Emma.

"What if Mary Margaret and I didn't find a way to get back from the enchanted forest? Even if you hadn't destroyed the way back, which probably would've demolished your relationship with Henry in which we somehow made our way through, where do you think Henry would be mentally if we couldn't find a way back?" Regina's expression grew into a majority of confusion. She had no idea where Emma was going at. "And what if we didn't get a chance to get a bean, where do you think we would be? In Storybrooke. And even if we _did_ get a bean, how would we know where Henry would be? And what we use to go through the waters that is inhabited with _deadly mermaids_ if Gold found Henry?" She couldn't stop. It dragged. And dragged. Her tongue, fueled with rage, spun and spun and spun. "Do you see the damn pattern? Do you realize _nothing_ I just said would've happened if _Killian_ , not Hook, not Captain Guyliner, not One-Hand-Wonder, _Killian_ helped me, helped _all of us._ We would be _stuck._ So I don't know what going on in your mind, but in mine, I am damn _certain_ he is not useless,and to some point, a pirate."

It felt as if she had been given each word for each minute she spent in the cave to defend Killian, because _never_ has she ratted someone out on the level of defense, or any level of speech for any matter. Not even in the years of her bail-bonds career had she ever been so mad at someone's actions. The valor the Queen procured was outrageous, almost enough for Emma to leave the mission of saving Henry just for the effect it would have on Regina.

Emma looked around the circle of people, who all stared with vast eyes at her outbreak.

"I guess..." Regina gave the group a huff. "I guess we can spare some. Maybe he knows somewhere we can find more."

Emma gave her a ghost of a smile. She pretended to warm her hands like they had just concluded a legitimate conversation. But they all knew it was anything but.

The next twelve hours consisted of the team resting. Energy from her bluster still thrilled in Emma's pulses, acting like caffeine guarding her need of rest. She kept watch for a lot longer than she should've, but didn't want to affect anyone from their raising energy levels. But the Gold came from the trees and told her he would take over. Defeating Pan will require a lot of her, no matter how awake she thought she was. Emma went to sleep.

Her mother softly woke her up, like it was the first day of school, notwithstanding the age difference that would be needed for. It would've annoyed Emma, but then she remembered the only home that she wasn't woken but obnoxious alarms and objects being throw at her head for a full two weeks. They arose her with temptations, like "The quicker you get up, the quicker the school day ends." or "The T.V. is free right now." She at least imagined that is how a mother should wake her child. encouragement and decisions.

A soft shake and whisper of, "Emma, sweetheart, it's time." was all Emma needed. No explaining was needed, it was all still fresh from the few hours back. Killian was going to be found and saved.

They started walking, to Emma it felt like it was aimlessly. They had returned back into the path Regina and Gold had entered from, the two leading.

"Where are we going? Is the camp this way?" She asked, continuing to walk.

"No. At least, we don't think so. We hid the ink this way." After a few turns and paces, they stopped. Emma looked around. They were surrounded by various trees—strong, weak. Gold walked over to one that looked pretty average and kneeled down. With a wave over one of its roots with his hand, a small compartment appeared. In it was a bottle, no bigger than a small,plastic water bottle. It was filled with black liquid Emma only assumed to be the ink. The thinner parts reflected as a dark purple in the torch light. "This is all we've got." Gold held out the glass bottle to Emma, who reluctantly took it to observe.

"Will it be enough?" It was a possibility it wasn't; the substance drew closer to the meager line to  
Emma. But that was only in her eyes. Magic had its way.

"To hold off Pan for a good five minutes or so, sure. The Lost Boys won't need a lot. I can easily even just cast a temporary sleeping curse throughout the camp." Emma nodded uncertainly.

"And how exactly will we get there? Pan doesn't exactly like settling." Snow asked, curiously.

"Look on your back, Dearie." Gold instructed. Snow did as she was told, coming to what she had packed only about an hour before; her blankets taken from The Jolly Roger. "Everything besides yourself you had taken onto this island more than not belongs to the Captain. A small tracking spell will lead us right to the pirate. May I?" Snow didn't respond, but David had taken a cloth of his pack while Gold explained everything to the team. He circled his hand around the fabric, in which produced a purple barrier around it. The cloth levitated from Charming's hand and glided to the right. Emma followed it without a second thoguht.

They scouted through the jungle, ensuing their object as best as they could. Regina lead, easily swiping leaves out of the way by walking near them. She cleared a path doing it, only having to turn for trees and bushes.

In only a few hundred feet, the cloth layed itself on a huge rock. It was clearly a part of a mountain. Emma looked around, and her heart Stopped for about a second before taking twice as much beats it usually pulsed.

 _It was the camp_.

Everyone soon followed her actions. Snow drank some water, muttering a _We made it._

They made sure to hide behind the branches as the group made their way around to outskirts to find where everyone was. There were two armed Lost Boys on either side of the cave door. Everyone was separated mostly into two circles on the defoliated area; one joking as they separated nuts and berries. The other had the same behavior but were refurnishing weapons around the fire. Pan was laughing with them. He spoke to two, and they got up and disappeared behind the doors.

Emma gazed at the camp. It was only then when the fear had finally taken over. What if they didn't succeed? Killian would be punished. And she had a feeling Pan was a tad bit looser with him than her.

The fear erased the pain she had been ignoring for several hours, and the gashes on her back started stinging in a sensation that was not at all pleasurable. Her stomach screamed in agony when she took a step towards her mom. she winced through it and spoke into her mothers ear.

"Am I supposed to be feeling everything at once?" Mary Margaret turned to her nonplussed. Emma's bruise on her arm started to swell. Maybe she hit it on a tree.

"What do you mean?" Her ankles burned. Snow threw a scan over Emma's figure before fixating it on her eyes. Emma's knees jutted forward. almost expecting the fall, she landed softly and soundlessly. Regina and David turned to see what was going on. Not Gold. he focused on Pan. "Oh, God." Snow quickly kneeled beside Emma.

"I-Ah-" she curved inward, folding into a ball. "I'm feeling everything..." Emma stopped to catch her breath. "All the pain is coming-right now."

A scream came from the cave. Emma clutched her belly. She turned to the camp, knowing that came from Killian, but returned her head quickly after a sharp pain exploited throughout her neck. " _Ah._ "

"Oh my God..." Snow and David looked at Regina. "She's feeling whatever Hook is..." Emma, now shaking, risked a glance at the Queen.

"What?"

"Emma, do you remember what they used to..." She didn't know how to state it.

"A s-stick. They used only a stick. But sometimes their feet."

"Were they covered?"

"Certainly felt like it."

"And what about the stick?"

"I-it uh...was- _dammit_ -It was glistening. Pan didn't touch it. No one with magic should." Her limbs spazzed at awkward rates. "Actually, no one technically did. The Lost Boys wore gloves."

"Dammit indeed." Regina responded, placing a hand own her forehead in distress.

"What? W-ah-why?"

"Bonding spell. Pan must've put it on the stick. Once the object touches two peoples' bare skin, it bonds them with it. Whenever one person has contact with it, the other will feel it."

"But why a-am I only feeling the pain now? Surely it's not the first session for Killian." She felt a kick on her back, but no one was behind her.

"Must be something with perimeter."

Emma looked through an opening eye-level. Everything was still intact. The chaos in the camp hide their wary whispers.

"Regina, now is the time for that sleeping spell you had planned." Gold had called. Regina returned her focus. Snow and David stood up. Emma looked at the team. she couldn't stand.

"Emma, stay."Regina started. "Once I knock everyone of and Pan seems somewhat distracted, start towards the cave. Be careful; the Boys in there may not be affected. Try to get him filled in." Emma nodded against the ground. "Gold, go around the camp. Pan knows you're here. We started distracting him, and once Pan senses you and turns around, Mary Margaret," She placed the bottle in Snow's hand. "Will freeze him. If Emma succeeds, you guys help her get him as far away as possible. We will look for Henry with any extra time." Gold had started to circle camp. Emma crawled to the rock. Regina shook her hands. David and Snow reassured each other.

And then it begun.

Multiple thuds sounded as each Lost Boy dropped under the curse's wave. Regina walked out, David and Snow behind her. She said something having to deal with a rumor Pan had Henry captive, but Emma couldn't hear much as she crawled to the rock. She placed her hand on it, mostly for support, but then realized how close she was to Killian. He was just inside the sediment. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Once she was at the edge of the bushes, she peaked out to make sure it was safe to start toward the cave enterance. Emma saw Rumple in the trees, signifing Pan will indeed sense his ubiquity. she started towards the door, where two Lost Boys laid motionless but breathing.

Pan continued to talk to the group, ignoring Gold in the forest behind him. His mouth was moving, but to Emma it seemed no sound was coming out. Everything was muted except for the cracks of the stick against skin in the cave, caused her limbs to give out at various times. Her mouth tasted of blood.

In more minutes to come, The Charming's and Regina were able to keep up a conversation. Emma still didn't know what they were saying. She heard both mentions of Henry and Killian, though.

She had made it to the door. It was different than her's; the whole location had switched. Emma's door was constructed with long, dark sticks laced together by vines. This seemed to be a thin bark probably from a tree they had chopped. A handle of leaves and twine mysteriously stuck to it.

The most effort taken from the laborious crawl was definitely climbing over a sleeping Lost boy. Thankfully he had fallen beside the door rather than in front of it. She climbed over his body with multiple groans and aches.

Emma had soon made it to the door withing the following ten seconds. Her arm shook as she leaned on it to extract the other to open the door. Once she got a grip on it, Emma grasped the twine with her other hand. She checked behind her, making sure Pan's sight was still out of her. He had moved toward the group, causing her chances to be caught be less. Emma leaned back to use her weight to open the door.

First, darkness consumed her eyes. And then the hot air hit Emma like a wave, leaving her gasping for breath.

The beating had stopped. In spit of her aching pains from the blows, they had stopped, which meant they knew she was there.

And for a second, Emma thought she was going to die.

Not like she knew she probably should've long before that moment. But it was because this time it would be while saving another person, meaning they would die, too.

A wall was next to the door, in which she used to assist her to stand and walk the distance of the foyer. Like her own cell, Killian's was lit dimly with one torch light throughout the cave. If it weren't for the two Lost Boys in her way, she would be able to see Killian, but because they were blocking her view she was only able to see his boots that covered his feet, which had been tied together as her's were. Rather than sitting in the chair she knew he was limp on the floor from a fresh beating. Pan never kept her in her chair for the whole week for her own, and Emma couldn't imagine his rules for Killian would be any easier or different.

The one Boy looked at her a little more intriguing than the other. he had the stick in his covered hand. It looked new and prime, but Emma knew the whole object was a trick. Not a speck of blood was seen on it.

"I don't want to hurt you," She started. From outside, which was only five feet behind her, she had heard Gold start, signifying Snow would soon freeze Pan.

"We don't care. Our loyalty remains to Pan. Now go before you get your own beating in front of your friend." Everyone remained where they were. Nobody moved.

"Oh, I've endured much more of that than noted." She laughed, clinging onto the wall. Magic swept into her lungs. The ink has been used.

Emma wasted no time and swept past the Lost Boys.

The first time she saw was purple streaks. Now, that converted to his blood, but the blue tint of the cave changed it. His back was bare of clothing but covered in the blood. She froze at first, leaning on the chair for balance, but went right beside him as her virtue came back to reality.

At first, Emma didn't know where to start. Her hands ghosted around him, over the cuts and slashes and bruises that were ten times worst than her own.

"Killian,"She said softly. "Hook, are you awake? Can you hear me?" His answer was a low growl. "Can you face me? You don't need to." He briefly nodded. Killian started to turn onto his stomach, probably to avoid his open wounds coming in contact with the dirt, before looking at Emma. She noticed something was very different, besides the fact his face was unrecognizable. Emma scanned his body. Nothing was so much of it besides his hook not on his left hand.

His hook.

In replace of it was ugly, rigged were swollen.

"Sw...an," Killian clarified.

"Shh. Don't talk. It's me, though. It's Emma." She told him with a smile. She looked at his face once more. Was it really him? His cheek bone was purple on his right side, the whole side swollen in total. The left had bruises as well, but more blood than anything. She ran her fingers through his blood-crusted hair, noting a goose-egg had formed at the top and made sure she was more sensitive with her touch there. It wasn't until Emma got to the base of his head that she knew it was really him, really Killian, remembering their kiss and the softness of the strands that remained.

"Listen, Killian, we need to get out of here. Pan is frozen from the squid ink. Can you stand?" Once again he nodded in determination. leaning on his right arm was mostly no problem, so she was very thankful he was laying on that side besides the on his feet, Killian used Emma to support himself. Despite it burning her muscles, Emma didn't mind. "Do you know where Henry is? OR your clothes?" They limped a few more steps before he answered.

"They...constantly move-Henry. Relocate...he sleeps..."

"Okay, good, good. Now quiet." He didn't stay quiet.

"He's next." Emma looked at did he mean? Pan had a list of who was in line? It wouldn't be very doubtful.

"It's okay, Killian. We will get him very soon. We just need your help, that's all." He shook his head, but agreed. They started walking to the door.

"Emma!" David showed himself. "Are you okay?" He glanced at Killian quickly before turning back to Emma, but his eyes attracted back to Killian in the end.

"Yeah, we just need to get out of here. Now." David immediately assisted her on the other side of Killian.

They made it out of the cave, and almost instantly Snow came over.

"We fashioned a transporter for him. Its messy, but will work." Her focused was fixated on Killian as well. Maybe she wasn't sure it was him.

Regina brought the cot over. it was crafted from a Lost Boy bed or mat in general, but magic adjusted its weight tolerance. Killian was set on it quickly and liberated by Gold's magic. Emma stayed by its side the whole journey back.

They were able to reach camp in two hours. Gold disappeared into his own area of the assart. Snow crafted another bed, as Emma gave hers up for Killian.

He laid on the blankets,staining them with wounds,but Emma didn't mind. she lay on her belly, her face near his, as she stared at the beaten face that was once Killian and he stared back. Even though his eyes were mostly swollen the pink and reds made his eyes pop,the only thing that had a physical similarity than before.

"You okay?" she asked, softly. Her chin rested on her hands that were on the ground beneath them all.

"Been better." She smiled a little before moving her arm just enough to massage his scalp. Killains hair stuck together with blood and when Emma brought her hand back it had a thin layer on it. She didn't care though.

She returned it to Killian's head. Emma moved her hands and finger to relax him, slowly traveling her hand further throughout each stroke. Soon the tips of her fingers reached his neck and Emma readjusted herself so her face was closer and cheek on her hand. They stared like lovers, each with tired eyes. and soon those tired eye defeated their awake ones, and Emma and Killian went to sleep.

.

.


End file.
